


Seventeen Suits and a Beacon

by RuntotheForest



Series: Forged in Fire [1]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Blood and Injury, Danger, Drama & Romance, Ellie Miller is a badass, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuntotheForest/pseuds/RuntotheForest
Summary: Ellie and Alec find themselves in a dangerous and seemingly impossible situation.   How will they get out of it?
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Series: Forged in Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048102
Comments: 114
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit different for me, suggested by a friend of mine who writes fic in another fandom. It took awhile to get started, and hopefully it's compelling enough to keep you interested.

“Let’s go, Miller.”

Hardy motioned to Ellie, and they moved toward the front door of the palatial rural home of Warren Redmond and his family. 

The DI and the two constables from Weymouth had left just moments before, after gathering evidence from the Redmond home. Hardy had the envelope containing the evidence – a few hairs and a fingernail – safely tucked into his jacket pocket, ready to hand off to SOCO upon their return to Broadchurch CID. Both Hardy and Ellie were fairly certain that Broadchurch resident Jessica Wilton had been taken from her home and murdered somewhere on the premises of Warren Redmond’s home, which was, as Ellie had quipped, “at the ass-end of space” – out in the middle of nowhere. They were closing in on making an arrest, but needed hard evidence, which Ellie and Hardy were convinced they had just found in Warren Redmond’s guest house.

“DI Hardy, wait!” Warren Redmond’s voice boomed across the entry hall as Hardy and Ellie headed toward the door. 

“Mr. Redmond, we need to get back. If you have any more questions, please feel free to call me at the number on the card.” Hardy was brusque, but polite. His anxiousness to leave was almost palpable, and, Ellie thought, feeling her own heightened anxiety, _contagious._

“But my wife and I want to show you that we harbor no ill feelings toward you or DS Miller. We know you’re only doing your jobs.”

At that moment, Fiona Redmond walked in bearing two steaming mugs of tea.

“My wife has made tea. Please stay for a moment before your trip back to Broadchurch. We know it’s a bit of a drive.”

Ellie looked questioningly at Hardy, who was clearly a bit torn as to whether they should blatantly refuse the accepted hospitality, despite the increasing unease she knew they were both feeling. Warren and Fiona Redmond presented a façade of cheer and nonchalance, and Hardy seemed compelled to play along – at least for the moment.

“All right,” he said, accepting the mug from Fiona. Ellie did the same, and they stood in the entry hall, tentatively tasting their tea.

“Oh, you mustn’t stand there and drink it,” Fiona protested, after a minute of silent sipping. “You must sit down and properly enjoy it.”

Hardy shook his head.

“Apologies, Mrs. Redmond. We’re expected back, and we really must be going. Thanks for the tea.” 

He set the mug on a table next to the front door, nodded curtly at the Redmonds, and walked out the door. Ellie followed, flashing a cheery smile at them before exiting.

The grounds of Redmond’s estate were large, and it was a bit of a walk to get to Ellie’s car. 

“Something seems odd,” Ellie said as they walked.

“You feel it too?”

“Definitely. And it’s not just because I’m pretty sure someone on these grounds committed murder – although that’s bad enough by itself.”

“Yeah,” Hardy agreed. “I don’t like any of it. It’s as though they were trying to stall us and keep us from leaving with everyone else.”

“A bit unsettling,” Ellie said, half to herself.

As they neared her car, Roman Redmond, Warren’s burly 20-something son, was approaching from the other direction. He appeared to be holding a tire iron, which put both Hardy and Ellie further on edge.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, with unveiled sarcasm.

“Yeah, I believe we have what we need,” Hardy answered pointedly, his eye on the tire iron.

“Good." He extended a hand, palm upward. "And now I will ask you to hand it over to me.”

Hardy and Ellie exchanged looks, but neither portrayed any outward alarm.

“What makes you think I would ever give it to you?”

“Because I have this.” He held up the tire iron. 

“A tire iron?” Hardy scoffed. 

“It can be a very effective weapon.”

“I’m not giving you the evidence, tire iron or not. There’s two of us and one of you, so do what you have to do.” He took a step further away from Roman Redmond, feeling the tension in the air began to crackle. Without looking away from Roman, he addressed Ellie. “Miller, please call DI Saxon and ask him to come back.”

Ellie reached for her mobile.

“You’ll do no such thing, DS Miller.”

Roman Redmond pulled a handgun out from under his jacket and aimed it at Hardy.

“I’ll take your mobile, DS Miller. Yours too, DI Hardy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hardy said. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing with a gun?”

Ellie stepped forward, next to Hardy. Roman moved the barrel in her direction.

“You’re going to shoot us?” Ellie asked, undaunted. “ _That'll_ certainly solve everything. How on earth does that help you avoid suspicion and prison?”

“Just give me your goddamn mobiles.”

Both Ellie and Hardy handed them to Roman, who tucked the tire iron under his arm while keeping the gun pointed at Ellie, then took their phones, one at a time. After pocketing both phones, he turned the gun back on Hardy. Ellie looked worriedly at Hardy, who was staring down the barrel of the handgun with disgust. 

“So why do you need a tire iron when you have a bloody gun?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. Alec Hardy _despised_ guns.

Roman’s laugh was both malicious and dispassionate.

“It’s for later,” he said, with an insincere smile that did not reach his eyes. “The gun is just insurance, but I’m more than willing to use it.” He nodded quickly in Hardy’s direction. “I’ll take that evidence now, DI Hardy. Slowly, please. And then I’ll need you both to get in the car.”

Hardy sighed heavily and pulled the evidence collection envelope out of his jacket. He shot Ellie a quick knowing look, and gave a slight nod. Ellie wordlessly interpreted his meaning, and steeled herself for whatever was about to come next.

Hardy worked at keeping his breathing steady so his pacemaker wouldn’t give him a jolt. He knew if they got in the car with Roman, their chances of survival decreased exponentially. He and Ellie had to do something _now_ , or the situation would become increasingly grim. He eyed the gun – a .22. _Small caliber, at least_ , he thought. 

He held the envelope up next to his left shoulder, and when Roman stepped toward him to take it from him, Hardy grabbed his wrist with his right hand, and attempted to twist Roman’s wrist and push the gun away. 

Instead, the gun went off. 

_It’s really not that loud_ , Hardy thought, as he felt white-hot heat rip somewhere through his right side.

Fueled by adrenaline, he ignored it.

He attempted to take Roman to the ground now, and they struggled for control of the gun. After the gun fired, Hardy had managed to push Roman’s arm to the side, away from either Ellie or himself. But he felt himself weakening, and didn’t know if he would be able to hold Roman off for much longer.

The rest was going to be up to Ellie.

“Ellie!” he yelled, although his voice sounded strangled, as though it was trapped somewhere in his throat.

Ellie wasted no time. While Hardy and Roman grappled, the tire iron dropped to the ground. Ellie snatched it from off the drive and swung it as hard as she could. It connected with the side of Roman’s head with a sickening thud. He immediately went limp and fell to the ground.

“I guess it is an effective weapon,” Ellie said with a sneer.

Hardy dropped to his knees, sinking backward to sit on his heels.

“Brilliant, Miller,” he said, panting. His vision started to cloud, and he could feel himself swaying.

Miller was talking.

“We need to get out of here. Hardy, get in the car!”

_Why did she sound so far away?_

“Hardy!”

She was at his side now.

“Come on! We’ve got to go!”

She grabbed his arm to pull him up and he winced, crying out in pain, sagging back to the ground.

“Alec? Are you all right?”

At that moment, a shot rang out, hitting the car and shattering a window. A second shot flattened one of the rear tires. 

Ellie and Hardy were in the line of fire.

She grabbed his arm again, and half-pulled him behind the car.

“We can’t stay here,” she said. “They’re coming after us. We can’t drive the car now, the tire’s flat.”

Hardy was breathing hard.

“Have to run,” he said hoarsely. “Need to grab the evidence…phones…gun too.”

“Hardy, why is there blood all over your -?” Her voice trailed off as she lifted his jacket and inhaled sharply. “Jesus Christ.”

“S’ fine.”

“God, you’re an idiot. Stay here.”

Ellie crawled out from behind the car on her hands and knees.

“What’re you doing? Ellie? Goddamn it, Ellie!”

Slithering along the ground, Ellie grabbed the evidence envelope and the gun before another gunshot sent her scurrying back behind the car. An angry, unintelligible voice was yelling something.

“Let’s go,” muttered Hardy. The voice was getting closer.

“I need to get one more thing,” Ellie said, opening the boot of her car with the remote in her crossbody bag. She reached in the boot and grabbed a duffel, then put both the envelope and gun in the bag, and flung the strap of the bag over her shoulder.

“ _Now_ let’s go,” she said. 

Hardy groaned in pain as she pulled him to his feet.

“Need cover,” he said. 

The Redmond estate was surrounded by wilderness and was miles away from civilization. Ellie and Hardy ducked into the trees on the far side of the drive. Hardy staggered, unsteady on his feet, and Ellie grabbed his left arm and threw it over her shoulder, dragging him along with her.

“Hold on. I’ve got you,” she told him, her voice shaking. But they kept moving forward.

From somewhere distantly behind them she heard an enraged bellow, then another shot rang out and ricocheted off a nearby tree.

“Fucking hell!” Ellie exclaimed. “He can’t keep following us and shooting at us. He has to stop and tend to Roman. We just need to keep moving for a while longer.”

Hardy grunted in agreement, trying desperately to keep his legs moving, even as his vision blurred, and he couldn’t seem to keep his balance _. But Ellie is here to keep me steady,_ he thought.

“What’s that? Of course I’m here.”

In his haze, Hardy realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud. But now he was distracted by something else.

“Ellie, your -“

“Don’t talk. Save your energy.”

“Jacket –“

“I know, I know, my jacket is a fucking beacon. But we can’t stop now. We need to keep going.”

\----------------------

Neither Ellie nor Hardy had any idea of how far they’d gone, or how long they had walked, or run, or stumbled. They hadn’t heard voices or gunshots for some immeasurable amount of time. They stopped, and Ellie listened carefully for a few moments as Hardy sagged against her shoulder.

“I think we’re safe for now. Let’s stop. You need to rest, and I need to take a look at your wound.”

She eased him down to the ground, leaning his back against a tree. She was alarmed by how pale he looked – even worse than in those first days she had known him, when he had looked like he would keel over if the wind had merely shifted direction.

Ellie took her bright orange jacket off and buried it inside her duffel.

“You look awful,” she said, brushing Hardy's hair from his forehead. She dug into the duffel, pulling out a bottle of water, which she opened and put up to his lips.

“Little sips,” she said, and he closed his eyes and drank a bit.

“Let me look at it,” she said, putting the lid back on the bottle. She moved his jacket away from his torso, and her heart sank when she saw the blood saturating his white button-up and the inside of his grey suit jacket. 

“Oh God,” she said, involuntarily.

“That good, eh?”

“You won’t be wearing this suit ever again.”

“S’okay, I’ve got 17 more just like it.”

They both chuckled drily, and Hardy winced with the effort. Ellie put a hand to her temple, rubbing in tiny circles. 

“I’ve got to stop this bleeding.”

She went back into her duffel, this time pulling out a towel and a first-aid kit. Hardy eyed the items with wonder.

“Bloody brilliant, Miller.”

“A compliment? You’ve obviously lost a lot of blood.”

“No, I mean it.”

She had untucked his shirt and was unbuttoning it from the bottom, exposing his torso. She found the entry wound just under his ribs.

“If you wanted to take my clothes off, shoulda just asked.”

She raised her eyebrow at him.

“That’s the blood loss talking again.” She continued her inspection. “Hmm. It looks like the bullet missed anything important, thank Christ. Can you lean forward a bit? I want to check your back.”

Hardy grunted and moved his back away from the tree, marveling at the agony caused by such a simple motion. 

“You’re so bloody thin,” Ellie said. “That bullet went right through you.”

“S’good, though. Less internal damage.”

“Yeah, well none of that’s going to matter if I don’t stop this bleeding.”

“I – you - you’re magic, Ellie.” Her face danced before him.

“Oh, you say that now," she said, "But you’re not going to think so when I do _this_ ,” she said, and pressed down on the wound with the towel. Hardy yelped in pain. His vision went white first, and then, slowly, everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie tries to care for an injured Hardy. Conversations are had. Danger lurks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I labored over this chapter, trying to get the dialogue just right. Fingers crossed!

When Hardy’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was Ellie’s face, and for a moment he thought he was in some other place and time – but this time, her face was not etched with hard lines and angles. Instead, the face above him was soft and concerned.

“Hi,” she said, face breaking out into a broad grin. “There you are.”

Hardy felt as though he was seeing her face through a fog. Blinking, he tried to focus on his surroundings. He was lying on his back on the ground with his head resting on something softish - that damned orange jacket. Groaning, he tried to sit up. 

“No, no, stay put,” Ellie said, putting her hands on his shoulders gently. “I just got the bleeding to slow down. You move around, it’ll start up again. I’ve only got so much gauze. And you’ve only got so much blood.”

Hardy’s throat felt raw and his brain felt fuzzy.

“How long?” was the only question he could formulate.

“How long have we been here? Or how long were you out? Both about half an hour, I’d say.”

“Someone’s coming…to pick us up?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You didn’t call?”

“I don’t have a phone, Alec. I can’t very well call anyone without one.”

“You didn’t… grab the phones?”

“No, I bloody didn’t grab the phones! I was being shot at, in case you’ve forgotten. The phones were in Roman’s pocket, and not exactly easy to get to if I didn’t want to die.” Her face turned stony. “You could’ve just as easily retrieved them yourself – oh wait, no you couldn’t, because you had already got yourself bloody _shot_!”

Much to her horror, her eyes filled with tears, through which she could see Hardy’s pained expression. Ellie felt immediately contrite.

“Sorry,” she said, and was surprised to hear Hardy mutter the same word at the same time. She impulsively grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. A few tears spilled from her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. This was not the time for tears.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “Warren Redmond is not likely to come after us.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I did some serious damage to his son. At the very least, I gave him a significant head injury. At most – I – I may have... “ 

Unwilling to complete the thought, she left it dangling. Hardy lightly squeezed her hand, still entwined with his.

“You did what was necessary.”

“I did,” she said, nodding, suddenly resolute. “So I imagine Redmond will be putting a lot of energy into taking care of Roman, which probably takes priority over the two troublesome detectives who fled into the wilderness.” She half-smiled, but it was fleeting. “Also, Broadchurch CID will undoubtably call Weymouth when we don’t call in and we don’t come back. Saxon will be back up here later today, and Redmond knows it. He has to get rid of my car, and…” Her voice trailed off.

“And?”

“And he has to clean up your blood,” she finished somberly.

“Right.”

He swallowed hard, with some effort.

“So we wait,” she went on. “Maybe a few hours, maybe more.”

“Mmm.”

“I hope you didn’t have any plans to speak of,” she teased.

“Hardly,” he rasped.

“You could have another cheeky date or something.”

“Miller.”

“Well, you could.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“How would _I_ know?”

“You would figure it out – like you did the _one_ time I actually went on a date.”

She laughed at that. 

“True.”

She briefly pondered the absolute strangeness of her sitting here, in the middle of a forest somewhere, with a badly injured Alec Hardy, talking about dating. _And_ she was holding his hand, but that could simply be attributed to having an appropriately empathetic bedside manner.

Their mutual affection was always understood, but never mentioned or defined. Both Ellie and Hardy occasionally secretly wondered what would happen if it was – but then they always left it alone, content to carry on as usual.

Still, she couldn’t help herself.

“Why was there only one date?”

“ _This_ is really what you want to talk about right now?” he protested wearily.

“It’s just a question. It's not like we have anything else to do.”

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, Ellie thought he either wasn’t going to answer, or had gone to sleep.

“S’ pointless,” he finally said, half-opening his eyes.

“What is?”

“Dating.”

“That’s fatalistic.”

“It’s _real_ istic.”

“That’s ridiculous! How else are you supposed to find someone if you won’t date?”

Hardy’s eyes opened all the way.

“Can’t do it. Small talk. Getting to know someone. Having them get to know _me_.”

Ellie sniffed.

“So you’re just going to be alone forever?”

“Not alone. _You_ told me once that we’re not all alone.” 

“Wow, you actually listened to something I said.”

He grimaced, and Ellie wasn’t sure if it was out of pain or disgust.

“I listen to you,” he said. “All the time.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You won’t stop talking. S’ why I’m never alone. Can’t get you to shut up.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, even as he squirmed in pain. Ellie was hit by a wave of fondness for this man she found both endlessly maddening and incredibly dear.

She leaned down and brushed a kiss onto his forehead.

“Wha’s that for?” he demanded, but without any bite.

“No reason,” she said, smiling. “Just felt like it. Knob.”

He chuckled briefly, then winced.

“Careful there, someone may think you like me a bit,” he said, grimacing.

“No danger of that, because clearly, I don’t.”

“Says the woman holding my hand.”

“I’m just being nice because you’re hurt. That’s what decent people do.”

Hardy closed his eyes again.

“’Course. Most decent person I know,” he mumbled, then fell silent, his energy flagging.

Even with his eyes closed, he could still see Ellie’s face looking down at him with a combination of care and concern in her warm brown eyes. He was always comforted by her presence, whether he would admit it to her or not. 

Now he felt himself hovering on the edge of consciousness, and in the depths of his mind, he attempted to tether himself to reality by imagining the warmth in her expression and the brightness of her smile.

Hardy’s silence began to worry Ellie. As did the cold, clammy feeling of his skin. And he was so very pale.

“Alec?”

He didn’t answer.

_Bright smile. Warm brown eyes._

“Alec!”

She shook his shoulder gently, and he stirred, barely opening his eyes and moaning softly.

“Stay with me, Alec.” Ellie gave his hand another squeeze. And she had that look on her face again. 

He couldn’t help it, he started to shiver.

“Cold,” he said.

“Can you lift your head?”

He nodded and with some effort managed to raise his head off the orange jacket. Ellie reached in and grabbed it from beneath his head, replacing it with Hardy’s own suit jacket. Then she draped the orange jacket over the top of him as a blanket.

“Better?”

Hardy nodded again.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, and his voice was thick.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.

“S’ true.”

“Of course you deserve me, you bloody fool! We deserve each other.”

“Got you into this mess.”

“We are equal partners in this mess. And you are the one who is the worse for wear, not me.”

Hardy was silent again, and Ellie tried to keep him talking.

“Don’t you realize how much good we’ve done together?”

“Couldn’t ‘ve done any of it without you.”

“Nor I, without you. Would you stop talking like that.” It was a demand, not a question.

“Joe’s still out there.”

“That’s my fault, not yours. You did everything you were supposed to do. I’m the one who fucked that up, Alec. Not you.”

“I let you.”

“Jesus Christ, Alec! Everything that’s wrong in our lives is _not_ your fault! You are a good, decent man who tries so hard to take the blame for all the evils you can’t eradicate. No wonder you never sleep – you’re too busy carrying the bloody weight of responsibility for the bad guys you couldn’t catch.”

“He could come back.”

“Alec, it’s been more than four years. Why are you worried about this now?”

“Want to protect you.”

She stopped and looked at him, cocking her head.

“You’re kidding.”

“M’ not.”

A wide, beaming smile lit up her face.

“That’s ridiculously sweet. Misguided, but sweet.” She brushed his hair off his forehead with her fingers. “You’re messing with my reality, Hardy. Must be because you have two holes in your body that _aren’t_ supposed to be there, and a whole lot less blood than _is_ supposed to be there.”

Hardy didn’t speak, and closed his eyes again. His head felt so heavy, and he was still so cold, despite the warmth of Ellie’s jacket. She leaned down to him, and he could feel her breath on his cheek.

“Tell you a secret,” she whispered conspiratorially, so close to his ear. That heated him up more than the blasted orange jacket ever could.

“Hmm.”

“I want to protect you too.”

His eyes opened again, and she was looking down at him – and her eyes were so warm now that he thought for a moment he might never be cold again.

“I want to protect you from feeling as though every case that comes through CID is more important than your life. I want to protect you from caring so much about justice that you stop eating and sleeping. And I want to protect you from believing you’re alone in all of this, because you’re _not_ \- not if you don’t want to be.”

And she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

“That’s twice in one day,” she said. “Maybe I do like you after all.”

Hardy let his eyes flutter closed again, a small smile playing at his lips. He felt himself begin to drift into unconsciousness, the sensation of Ellie’s soft lips still on his cheek.

From behind them, there was a noise. Ellie whirled around just in time to see Warren Redmond step from behind a tree, a handgun pointed in their direction.

His face was red with rage and wet with tears.

“Hands where I can see them,” he barked. Ellie raised her hands, but Hardy was only half-conscious and didn’t move. “I said hands up!”

Redmond strode over and pointed the gun at Hardy’s motionless form.

“He’s been shot. Your son shot him. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Ellie moved between Hardy and the gun.

“Did he kill my son?” he demanded.

Ellie blinked.

“Your son is dead?”

“What do you think?” he snarled. “Now which one of you killed him?”

“I did,” Ellie said. “Not intentionally. He was going to kill _us_. He had already shot my partner and I had to stop him.”

“Unfortunate for you.”

Ellie stared him down.

“Weymouth Police should be here any moment.”

He laughed humorlessly. 

“Not likely. It took me some effort to find you, and I wasn’t that far behind you. I saw which direction you went. My property is surrounded by wilderness. Whenever the police do show up, they won’t know which way you ran.”

He snorted derisively.

“I only found you because of that hideously bright orange jacket - otherwise, I might have missed you completely. I did make it in time to witness your saccharin confession to DI Hardy, though. It’s most unlucky for him that you chose right now to proclaim your affection.”

“Leave him alone.”

“Just stop your whingeing. You’re both going to die anyway. I’m simply going to make you watch your partner die first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the pseudo-cliffhanger! Please come back to find out what happens! :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie tries to figure out how to keep herself and Alec alive in the midst of grave danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a darker chapter. Sorry. More of the angst, less of the fluff. But still a little fluff, because hey, it's me...

Ellie Miller had never been held at gunpoint before today, and now she was staring down the barrel of a handgun for the second time. The first time had yielded disastrous results, and she was concerned that the second time could potentially be even worse.

Talking her way out of this predicament would be tough, but she saw no option other than trying.

“You’re going to make me watch my partner die? That’s ridiculous,” she said, and Warren Redmond’s face registered surprise at her brazen response. “I’ve been watching him die for the better part of an hour. He's unconscious. You seriously want me to try and rouse him so that you can kill him faster?”

The surprise on Redmond’s face had been replaced with a sort of calculating glare. Ellie continued, undaunted.

“This story has already been written. Your _son_ wrote it, as a matter of fact. How could you possibly think you could make it any worse by speeding it up?”

Redmond glowered at her.

“You say he’s dying? I don’t believe you. Prove it.” he said.

“You want to see evidence of his suffering? Fine.” She reached down and pulled away the orange jacket, revealing a bloodied Hardy, barely conscious and shivering. He wasn’t dying, not really – _not yet,_ Ellie thought – but he certainly looked like he might be.

“Satisfied?” she hissed, hot tears beginning to cloud her vision. 

“Partially,” Redmond sneered. “I will be fully satisfied when you are both dead.”

Ellie felt panic begin to creep in. She needed to try another tactic.

“Let’s end the killing,” she pleaded. “Hardy’s a father. I’m a mother.”

Redmond’s face was stony.

“And I’m no longer a father. _You_ took that away from me.”

Ellie snorted bitterly.

“You certainly have a twisted sense of justice. _We_ were doing our jobs. _Your_ family is responsible for the death of Jessica Wilton, and now you’ll be responsible for the two of us. I hope it was worth it.”

“Everything I’ve done, I did for my son,” he snapped. “You’re a mother. You should know that you will go to any lengths to protect your loved ones.”

“This is not a good point to argue with me, trust me on this.” Ellie said acidly. “I beat the shit out of my husband after I found out he killed an 11-year-old boy he said he was in love with. He can rot in hell, for all I care. Once he betrayed humanity, he was of no use to me.”

“Ah,” Redmond said, a malevolent grin appearing on his lips, “that was you.”

“Yes, it bloody well was. So don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t do. I would never kill another human being to hide a crime committed by someone I loved.”

“You would if it was your son, and not your husband.”

“You’re wrong. If my son had raped a woman, as we suspect Roman did to Jessica Wilton, I would be the one arresting him, not trying to cover it up by killing people.” Ellie took a deep breath. “If you had let your son suffer the consequences of his actions, he would still be alive – he’d be in jail, but at least he wouldn’t be dead. So you might say that _you’re_ the one at fault for his death, not me.”

Redmond narrowed his eyes, and Ellie could hear him breathing hard as his face began to color red.

“Enough talking! I’m done with you!” Redmond’s face contorted with anger. “Come here. On your knees.”

Ellie felt a wave of fear surge throughout her body. Talking hadn’t worked. She was running out of time. _Think, Ellie, think!_ She tried to stall a bit longer.

“Will you please let me say goodbye to him? If we’re both going to die, at least give me that.” she said, hearing her voice catch involuntarily. Redmond raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment.

“Fine. I’m not completely heartless. But you try and pull anything, you’re dead.”

 _Isn’t that how this is supposed to end anyway?_ Ellie thought, but kept herself from saying the words out loud. She didn’t have many options left. The duffel with the gun was too far from her, and even if she could get her hands on it, Redmond would surely shoot her first. No, no, that wasn’t a reasonable plan.

Her heart started racing. Her heartbeat was so fast that she briefly found herself wondering if this was what it felt like when Hardy’s heart acted up, back in the days before his pacemaker.

She kneeled next to Hardy, who was shivering and mumbling something unintelligible. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, softly enough that Redmond couldn't hear.

“Alec, please wake up. I need you.”

But he seemed unaware of her presence.

She tried again, this time pressing her lips against his. Her tears fell onto his cheek.

“I need you. Please help me.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard his breath catch. Still, his eyes remained closed.

“That’s enough,” Redmond hissed. 

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him again before Redmond grabbed her arm and pulled her away roughly.

This was it. She was officially out of time. 

Redmond was directing her to a clear space, where he told her to get on her knees. No doubt he was planning a bullet to her head, execution style. 

_This is not an acceptable_ option, thought Ellie.

Instead, Ellie took the orange jacket, still in her right hand, and flung it in Warren Redmond’s face, giving her just enough time to bolt off into the trees before he could recover.

Redmond bellowed with rage, and looked around frantically.

“You won’t get far!”

Ellie crouched behind a bush not far away, her heartbeat so loud that it seemed amplified. Her only hope was that Redmond would look for her in the wrong direction, which would give her the chance to either put some distance between herself and him, or to try and get back to the duffel bag with the gun.

No such luck. 

After a few tense minutes, Redmond spotted her hiding place, and walked toward her slowly and deliberately, leading with the gun.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. What now, Ellie?_

When he was close enough, Ellie launched herself at his legs, taking them out from under him. She had hoped he would drop the gun as he fell, but to her dismay, it remained in his grip. She attempted to scramble to her feet and flee, but she wasn’t fast enough, and she once again found herself staring down the barrel of a handgun.

“Stupid bitch,” Redmond growled dangerously, keeping the gun trained on Ellie while getting to his feet and brushing himself off. “I’ll take great pleasure in this.”

Stepping toward her, he raised the gun, pointing it at her head. Ellie froze. 

_This is it._ _This is how I die. Everything in my life led up to this. I’ll never see my boys again._

“Wait!” she cried.

The gun went off. 

No. _A_ gun went off. But it wasn’t Redmond’s. 

In fact, Redmond dropped to the ground, blood trickling from his temple, crumpling motionless right in front of her.

_What the hell?_

Ellie turned in time to see Hardy drop Roman Redmond’s .22 and collapse to the ground.

“Alec!”

She rushed over to him and held him to her chest, unable to keep the tears from flowing freely.

“You…saved me,” she whispered, shaking.

“You needed my help.” His words were breathy and labored.

“You _heard_ me,” she breathed, incredulous.

“I did,” he said, smiling weakly. “You _kissed_ me.”

She laughed through her tears. 

“How else could I get your attention?”

She smoothed his hair and looked him over, quickly sobering when she saw the bloodstain on his shirt starting to spread.

“Shit, Alec, you’re bleeding again.”

She lay Hardy gently back on the ground and stood up.

“I wonder if Warren brought his phone with him on his mission to kill us.”

She didn’t relish the thought of going through a dead man’s pockets, but she had no other option. She walked over to where Warren Redmond had fallen, kneeled, and took his pulse, just to be certain.

“He’s dead,” she announced.

She did a thorough search of Warren Redmond’s jacket before finding the phone in an inside pocket.

“Thank Christ,” she muttered.

She dialed 999 first, but didn’t know how to tell emergency services to find them once they got to the Redmond estate. She also told them she didn’t know if Fiona Redmond would be holed up with still another gun, waiting to shoot anyone who arrived on their property. But she certainly hoped not.

There had been enough bloodshed for today.

Then she called Weymouth CID. Hopefully, they would sort everything out, because right now, she couldn’t help. God, she was tired. 

But at this moment, Hardy needed her.

“Alec, the towel I used earlier is all soaked through. I’m going to use your suit jacket to help stop the blood flow, okay? I mean, we already determined you wouldn’t be wearing it again.”

“’K.”

“And it was already determined that you have seventeen others just like it.”

Hardy laughed a bit through his nose.

“At least,” he murmured. 

“You’re still wearing your tie,” she said, touching his cheek. “That’s impressive.”

“Professional.”

“Quite right.”

Hardy groaned and began to shiver again as Ellie removed the saturated gauze from the gunshot wound. She used Hardy’s jacket to apply pressure to the wound, and he cried out and writhed in pain. His vision started to blur and whiten.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered dolefully.

Ellie’s concern was growing by the moment. She felt as though she was fighting a losing battle in her attempt to stem the seemingly endless blood flow. Hardy appeared even paler than before, and he was so, so cold.

“I hate fucking guns!” she yelled out of frustration, to no one. 

_Hold it together, Ellie. Alec needs you._

Hardy was fading, fighting to stay conscious.

“Ellie,” he breathed, “I…”

“Shh,” she said, leaning down and kissing him gently. “Let it go, Alec. Sleep now, and when you wake up, this will all be over. I promise.”

She hoped to God this was a promise she could keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody's dead yet - except the bad guys. Come back and see how it ends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ellie Miller waits and thinks about life, death, and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is officially the toughest fic I've written. I've spent a lot of time writing and rewriting, but I think I'm satisfied now. One more chapter after this (I think). Thanks for your continued support! <3

The waiting was killing them. Well, it was frustrating Ellie to the point of cursing at the trees and sky, but it was literally killing Alec Hardy.

Ellie had long since lost any ability to measure time in normal increments. Every minute felt interminable, because she and Alec were still here _in the bloody woods, in the middle of nowhere._ Somebody should have been here by now, shouldn’t they? Or was her sense of time distorted by the urgency of the situation? If time were measured by the number of different thoughts and fears racing through her mind, Ellie was certain that she had endured several lifetimes, all in one day.

Really, though, it couldn’t take _that_ long to find them, could it?

Ellie had managed to stop Hardy’s active blood loss. Inexplicably, the entry wound was harder to control than the exit wound. 

But there was _so much blood_. Hardy’s blood. And his face was so ghostly pale. He had never been that pale, even when she had first known him – back when it seemed as though a stiff breeze would have blown him over. He was definitely healthier now than he had been back then, although he never ate or slept enough, especially when there was a troubling case. This case – the Jessica Wilton case – had been one of those cases that had kept him up at night, for days on end. Ellie had noticed the hollow, dark circles reappear under Hardy’s eyes. And even though he was practiced at pushing through his fatigue, she had seen the slump of his shoulders, and had felt his patience growing thinner with each passing day. She always worried about him when he neglected himself over a case.

But none of that mattered right now because she wasn’t sure he would make it past _this_ case.

She obsessively checked to make sure he was breathing. She watched his chest rise and fall - almost imperceptibly at times. She took his pulse, which felt weak, but it was there. Every few minutes, she would take his hands, one by one, and try to warm them in hers. She had retrieved her orange jacket from the ground where it had fallen when she had thrown it at Warren Redmond. As she had done earlier, she draped the jacket protectively over the unconscious Hardy.

She called Weymouth CID several times, but they were unable to triangulate the phone signal, they said. Maybe Warren Redmond had disabled the GPS, they thought. _Stay put_ , they instructed. 

They did tell her that Weymouth Police were finally on scene at the Redmond estate, but they had as of yet been unable to locate the two detectives in the surrounding woods.

 _Obviously. Thanks for that,_ Ellie thought.

She shouted again into the trees, hoping someone was close, but nobody answered. Her desperation felt wild and reckless, but had no other outlet.

She went to Hardy's side again, taking his cold, limp hand in hers.

“If you die, I’ll bloody kill you,” she whispered to him. Her hands were covered in his blood now. She felt as though this bound them closer together, somehow.

They had been growing emotionally closer before today. She couldn’t put a finger on when things had started to change between them, but she knew they had, at least for her. She didn’t know when she had started to appreciate the way his aftershave smelled (or was it his deodorant, since she wasn't sure he actually ever shaved?), or the way his shirts emphasized his slim torso, or the way the wind ruffled his hair. She wasn’t aware when their accidental touches had started to seem electric, or when their inevitable proximity working on a case would send her pulse racing – especially when he draped a casual arm around the back of her chair, and she could feel his breath on her neck. 

Her sense was that he felt it too, and that maybe he had for quite some time. 

But of course, he wouldn’t say a word about it. Somehow, she always knew she would have to be the one to bring it up. The world was more likely to end before Hardy would make any overt gesture that clarified the depth of his feelings for her. It was both infuriating and something of a relief to Ellie. Despite her growing recognition of her feelings for him, and perhaps because of it, she worried that anything beyond their working partnership and peripheral friendship would be a distraction. Or maybe it wouldn’t work, and what would _that_ do to them?

But then, today had happened. And it became abundantly clear that there was really _no_ time to keep their feelings hidden. 

Ellie’s 'bedside' confession to Hardy may have been inspired by necessity, but it was no less truthful. And Hardy himself seemed ready to make a similar confession to her, but Ellie had shut it down. Initially she told herself it was so he could conserve his energy. He had lost so much blood, after all. Upon reflection, she thought maybe it was because she didn’t want to hear any declarations from him when he wasn’t fully aware or conscious of what he was saying. 

But if somebody didn’t come soon, she would never hear anything from him _ever again_. That was unacceptable. And unthinkable.

“You’re the bloody police!! How hard can it be?!” she yelled to the as-yet invisible forces trying to find them.

She went through her now-ritual again: taking his pulse, watching his chest rise and fall, warming his hands. Her desperation was reaching unbearable levels, and she used breathing techniques her therapist had given her to try and remain functional. 

Hardy’s slack face was unnaturally ashen, even for him. No amount of hand-warming was going to save him if they didn’t get here soon.

Another primal scream to the heavens yielded no results.

Her eyes filled with helpless, hopeless tears.

She went to him, sat on the ground, and took his hand. It felt so cold, so lifeless.

“I’m so sorry, Alec,” she said mournfully, hot tears falling on their twined fingers. “I don’t know how to save you.”

She squeezed his hand, hoping somehow he would feel it.

“There’s so much I want to say to you. I – “

At that moment, she heard a faint whirring – a sonic contrast from the silence of the forest. 

She stood, looking skyward, holding her breath as the sound approached agonizingly slowly. It seemed to be microscopically increasing in intensity, until it eventually appeared above them, circling around a few times, then finally hovering.

 _A helicopter_. 

She knelt by his side again.

“They’re here, Alec! Please, please, please hang on!”

She watched as they lowered a basket stretcher from the helicopter, along with a rescue paramedic.

“Thank Christ,” she said to the paramedic when he touched down. He wasted no time, striding over to Hardy.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” she said, stating what she thought must be blatantly obvious, since Hardy’s blood was everywhere.

“I see that,” said the paramedic, eyeing the blood all over her. “Are you injured at all, Ma’am?”

“No, the blood is all his.”

She watched as the paramedic checked Hardy’s vitals and injuries. 

"Gunshot wound?" he asked.

"Yes, small caliber. Entry and exit wounds."

He nodded.

“Did you do this?” he asked, indicating the blood-soaked gauze that had been covering the gunshot wound on Hardy's torso.

“Yes. I had a first-aid kit. I put pressure on the wound to help stop the bleeding. I had to do it two separate times because he started bleeding all over again.”

“Brilliant,” he said. “You did well.”

“There’s also a body in the trees over there, but you can’t help him.”

“Dead? Are you sure?”

“I am. I checked.”

“I need to check, just to be certain.”

“You really don’t. I promise he’s dead. And I don’t want you wasting time that you could be using to save DI Hardy.”

“Ma’am, I have to.”

Ellie wanted to argue, but acquiesced. She understood protocol. 

“Please hurry. Please.”

After a perfunctory check, the paramedic confirmed the death of Warren Redmond.

“Please help Hardy now. Please.”

“It will be all right, Ma’am. I need you to believe me.”

He solicited her help in moving Hardy from the ground to the stretcher.

“We've let the police know where you are, and they’ll be here to get you in a few minutes,” he said, as they both lay a motionless Hardy gently into the basket stretcher. Ellie touched Hardy’s cheek, but then realized the implications of the paramedic’s words.

“Wait, I’m not going with you?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“But I need to go with _him_.”

“You don’t, Ma’am. We’ll take good care of him, I promise.”

Ellie started to panic in earnest.

“But you don’t understand. I need to know he’s not...”

She didn’t know how to, or didn’t want to finish that sentence, but something else occurred to her.

“He…he has a pacemaker.”

The paramedic paused briefly and raised an eyebrow.

“Really. That’s important to know. Thanks.”

Her face must have looked especially forlorn.

“Don’t worry, Ma’am. This is what we do. I can see you care for him, but we’ll take it from here. And just so you know, with all that you did to help stop the bleeding - you probably saved him.”

Ellie thought about that for a moment.

“We saved each other,” she said, giving him the slightest of smiles. “It’s kind of what we do.”

He chuckled, signaling the helicopter with a wave.

“Then you’re both very lucky.”

He winked at her, and he and the unconscious Hardy started to move skyward.

“You know,” he called down to her, “I don’t think we would have found you without that orange jacket. It’s so bright that I think you could see it from outer space.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Details of Ellie's very long day (and the next morning) after Alec is rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be the last chapter, but as usual, I wrote too much and need one more. Sorry/not sorry. :)

Ellie was told that she and Hardy had walked for miles to find their hiding place in the woods. When they were fleeing Warren Redmond’s gunshots, she had not had any concept of time or distance. As she walked out of the woods with her rescuers, the time and distance seemed interminable. Endless walking - when all she wanted to do was be with Hardy.

They did tell her that Fiona Redmond had admitted to everything and surrendered peacefully. Now that her son and husband were both dead, she hadn’t anything left to protect.

They drove Ellie to Weymouth CID, and Ellie didn’t remember the conversation, or even if there was any. She got the vague sense they were giving her space and privacy to process the events before she had to answer specific questions about the events of the day - one of the longest of her life, thus far. And that was saying a lot, since she had had some _endless_ days, starting with the day Hardy had told her, “It was Joe.”

Once in Weymouth, she was wrapped in a blanket while she numbly gave her statement to CID. Afterward, she was sent to the Ladies’ to change into a “Weymouth Police” sweatshirt, since her clothes were saturated with Alec Hardy’s blood. As she washed the blood off her hands, she noticed her face in the mirror, also smudged with the same dark red.

God, she looked a fright.

The Weymouth CS, a tall, formidable older woman, had kindly driven Ellie to A & E and accompanied her inside. Ellie was grateful that she had the clout of Weymouth CID to help her find and get information about Hardy. It was dark outside, but she had no idea what time it was, or how long it had been since Hardy was taken off in the helicopter, but she was done with the idea of _not knowing_ _anything_. 

The CS tracked down Hardy’s doctor, at long last. Ellie could barely breathe, waiting to hear any news.

“He lost a lot of blood,” the doctor was saying, but that was the last thing that Ellie remembered him saying, other than, “He should make a full recovery.”

She almost began sobbing with relief.

“Can I see him?” she breathed, incredulously. “He’s my partner. He’s my…friend.”

The doctor smiled.

“You were the one who administered first aid in the field?”

Ellie nodded.

“I have to tell you; you are largely responsible for the fact that DI Hardy is still with us. I’ll take you to him. I don’t think he’s awake yet, but I can tell you’re anxious to see him, and I don’t want to make you wait with all you’ve been through today.”

“Thank you so much,” Ellie said, but it came out as barely a whisper.

The doctor led her down a series of twisting corridors to Hardy’s room.

“You can sit with him as long as you need to. It’s late, so the cafeteria is closed, but there’s a machine for coffee and snacks at the end of the hall.”

Ellie nodded her thanks, and entered the room. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but Hardy looked so much better than he had before the paramedic had taken him off in the helicopter. If she hadn’t known any better, she might have thought he was simply sleeping peacefully. His hair flopped down over his forehead. His face was pale as always, but no longer ghostly white, and the sharp angles and edges she usually saw there were relaxed and softened. He seemed more youthful, somehow.

She sat and watched him for a while, knowing that he wasn’t likely to wake up soon, but it was a comfort for her to be there with him, knowing he wasn’t going to die. She had spent too much of the day carrying the weight of that particular worry.

“I am so glad to see you,” she said quietly, laying a hand on his arm. “If I had lost you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

She slouched in her chair a bit, suddenly feeling the overwhelming exhaustion of the day. 

_I’ll just close my eyes for a moment_ , she thought.

\-----

“Ellie. Ellie!”

Someone was shaking her shoulder.

She opened her eyes to see Broadchurch’s own CS Jenkinson looking down at her.

“Sorry, Ma’am. I must’ve nodded off.”

She noticed that she was holding Hardy’s hand, and she didn’t remember when that had happened.

“You’ve been here all night,” Jenkinson was saying, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You should go home and get some rest.”

“I want to be here when he wakes up, Ma’am. I have to be.”

Jenkinson gave a brief nod.

“I understand. You two had quite the day yesterday.”

“Yes, Ma’am, we did.”

Jenkinson smiled.

“I was told you likely saved him with your first aid skills.”

Ellie rubbed her eyes, frowning slightly.

“We both – well, we both did what we had to do yesterday. Several times. We saved each other.”

Jenkinson nodded knowingly. 

“I’ve read the report and talked to Weymouth’s CS. At some point, I’ll need to hear it from you. And Alec, when he’s up to it.”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

“Until then, take some time. Keep a low profile if you can. The press is going to be all over this. Get some rest. Take care of Alec.” She gave a short, dry chuckle. “I don’t know what it is about you two. A few years ago, I didn’t have any expectation that you would even get along – especially after everything that happened back then. But for some reason, the two of you…” She paused, considering her words carefully.

“…You’re bonded in a way I never expected. I honestly don’t think anything can tear you apart.”

Ellie pondered the truth of Jenkinson’s words.

“Yesterday was damn close, though,” Jenkinson muttered, shaking her head. “Too close.”

She squeezed Ellie’s shoulder lightly.

“You know,” Jenkinson continued, “he wouldn’t come back to Broadchurch unless you were his DS. Did he ever tell you that?”

Ellie’s eyebrows raised in surprise. She knew he had grown to respect her, but she didn’t realize the scope of it, apparently.

“No, Ma’am. That’s not the type of thing he would ever admit out loud.”

Jenkinson laughed.

“No, I don’t imagine he would. But it was 'Miller or no deal’." She chuckled again. "He’s a good cop, Ellie. I’ve never met anyone so committed.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Well, I’m due for a press conference with Weymouth CID, so I’m off to that. You need some coffee or a snack before I go?”

“No thank you, Ma’am.”

After Jenkinson left, Ellie stood to stretch her legs. She was surprised by how sore and heavy her body felt. She must have used muscles she had never used before yesterday – muscles she didn’t even know she had. And sleeping in the chair probably didn’t help matters.

She was busy rolling her neck around to try and release some of the tension when she thought she saw a bit of movement in her peripheral vision. Looking over at Hardy, she saw him clench and unclench his fist, and rushed to his bedside, grabbing his hand. Hardy groaned and his eyes flickered open.

“My sleeping beauty,” Ellie said, giving him her broadest smile. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Hardy grunted unintelligibly and squinted in the light.

“What did you say, Alec?”

Hardy tried again. “You okay?” His voice was gravelly.

“Seriously? Do I look like the one who almost died yesterday?”

Hardy swallowed hard.

“Bit dramatic.”

“Not remotely,” Ellie said. “The paramedic and doctor both told me. And I was there…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “You looked bad.”

“You always say that.”

She snorted indignantly.

“There’s a big difference between saying you look terrible because you don’t ever eat and sleep, and watching the life slowly drain out of you. I’ll nag you until the end of time about the former, but the latter is something I _never_ want to have repeated. Ever. In my entire life. Do you understand me on this?” Her eyes filled with tears.

He squeezed her hand gently.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said hoarsely.

She wiped away the tears with her knuckle.

“How are you feeling?”

He blinked rapidly several times.

“Don’t know. Don’t feel much of anything but tired.”

“Ooh, they gave you the good drugs for sure.”

“Mm. Maybe. Take me home soon?”

Ellie frowned.

“Not a chance in hell. You will stay in this hospital if I have to handcuff you to the bed myself.”

Hardy gave her a drowsy smile.

“And what will you do after that?”

“Cheeky!” She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “They definitely gave you the good drugs.”

“Yeah,” he said, with a lopsided grin, closing his eyes again.

She cupped his cheek with her hand, stroking his beard with her thumb.

“I’m very glad you didn’t die, Alec.”

“Me too,” he said, his eyes still closed.

“No, I mean it. I can’t imagine losing you.”

“Naahh. I’d've thought you couldn’t wait to get rid o’ me.”

Ellie chuckled.

“Well, I’d have thought that at one time too. But much to my surprise, that is not the case. In fact, it’s the opposite of how I feel.”

His eyes fluttered open again.

“Shitface has worn you down, eh?”

“I suppose you could say that, although I’m relatively certain that Brian is the only one who calls you Shitface anymore.”

Hardy frowned.

“Don’t wanna talk about Dirty Brian.”

She laughed and patted his hand. 

“What _do_ you want to talk about?”

He swallowed again, licking his lips, taking his time to formulate the words properly.

“Ellie, I need to tell you –“

“Nope,” she said, putting a hand up. “Stop right there. You are not going to tell me how you feel until there is no morphine involved.”

He looked properly deflated, and Ellie felt the guilt start to creep in. 

“Alec,” she said gently, bringing his hand to her lips, “I definitely want to hear what you have to say. But I can wait. I don’t want you to say something you won’t mean later - when you’re not loopy.”

“Not loopy now.”

“Oh, you really are. But you’re cute when you’re on drugs.”

He grunted his disapproval and closed his eyes again.

At that moment, a nurse poked her head in the room.

“It’s 7:30, and I need to check everything." She held up a clipboard with a checklist attached. "Glad to see you awake, Mr. Hardy.”

Ellie stood abruptly.

“I’d better go anyway. Lucy has the boys. I desperately need a shower and my own bed. I just wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“I like seeing your face when I wake up,” he said, dreamily.

Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Oh brother,” she said, chuckling. “Your morphine drip is doing wonders for my ego.”

“Ellie.”

“What?”

“You kissed me.”

“I’m impressed you remembered.”

“Couldn’t forget that.”

She leaned and kissed his forehead, brushing his hair away with her fingers.

“Goodbye, Alec. I’ll be back soon.”

“Ellie.”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me again.”

“Fine,” she said with humour, leaning down again and planting another kiss on his forehead.

“No, not there,” Hardy protested. “Here.” He pointed to his lips.

Ellie glanced over at the nurse in the doorway, who discreetly stepped just out of the door frame with a small, knowing smile.

“Okay, just this once.” Ellie leaned back down and brushed her lips gently against his, sweetly and softly. His lips felt dry, but soft, and mercifully much warmer than the last time she had kissed him. She felt warmth flood her body.

“Mmm,” he murmured, closing his eyes again. “Hurry back.”

When she left a moment later, he was already asleep, and her entire body was tingling. 

She knew they’d have a lot to deal with in the coming weeks, and she wasn’t sure what any of it entailed. She also knew they would both have to process the things that happened to them yesterday and learn to live with the things they had done as a result. She hoped they could help each other put those events into perspective and keep each other grounded in reality.

And there was still the matter of their evolving relationship, which seemed so clear when Hardy had asked her to kiss him, but would surely be murkier in a few weeks, after the drugs had worn off and the media frenzy had subsided. She had shut him down again before he could make any broad declaration of affection. She needed to know it was all real, and not some romantic notion, magnified by tragedy.

She had waited this long. She could certainly wait a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, there are still some loose ends. I couldn't bear to leave it like this. Thanks for all the comments and kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the story - angsty conversations and sweet confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This has been the most difficult of my fics thus far. Thanks for following along on my little journey with these two characters I adore (probably way too much).

Alec Hardy was restless and grouchy by the time he was released from the hospital, four days after the events that had caused his injury. He hated hospitals, and usually did whatever he could to get out of them as quickly as possible. But Ellie had threatened him with further bodily injury if he did not stay for as long as the doctors told him to stay, and he had unwillingly and unhappily acquiesced, grumbling about it for days (much to Ellie’s amusement).

On the day he was due to be discharged, his mood improved immensely, but was dampened by the news that the press was lurking outside the hospital, having received word of his impending release. The shift doctor and nurses managed to arrange a surreptitious exit through the rear loading dock, and Ellie pulled the car around to pick him up there.

“Parasites,” he muttered under his breath, as they drove stealthily by the herd of reporters and cameras waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. 

Hardy was silent during most of the drive from Weymouth to Broadchurch, and Ellie cast occasional glances in his direction.

“You okay over there?” she asked, after an especially long stretch of silence.

He nodded briefly and grunted an affirmative, not offering any further explanation.

They pulled up to his hillside home, only to find several news vans camped outside.

“Fucking hell,” said Ellie, and she kept driving. “I’m taking you to my house. Someone should be looking after you anyway.”

“Ellie…”

“Shut it, Hardy.”

They drove silently to her house, which was mercifully devoid of media presence. Hardy raised an eyebrow in question.

“They’ve already been here for days and they’re tired of me,” she explained, shutting off the engine. “It’s you they want now. You’re the hero detective who almost died.”

Hardy scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t do that,” she admonished. “It’s all true, you know.”

He grunted again, shaking his head in consternation.

“More like I’m the bloody idiot who got myself shot.”

She stared at him for a moment, surprised by his bitterness, but not quite ready to address it.

“We can talk about this later. Let’s go inside, and have some real tea and food that didn’t come from a cafeteria. You’ll feel better, I swear.”

They made their way into the house, Alec moving slowly, but unaided. Ellie hovered nearby, ready to help if needed, but not wanting to fuss. Once inside, the moment Ellie shut the front door behind them, they were immediately besieged by an excited six-year-old. Fred launched himself into Hardy’s legs, knocking him backward against the door.

“Uncle Alec!”

Hardy winced and tried to stifle a groan as Fred wrapped himself around Hardy’s thighs.

“Hi there, wee Fred,” he said weakly, attempting a smile, and ruffling the boy’s hair.

Ellie was horrified.

“Freddie, you have to be gentle with Uncle Alec right now. Remember I told you he had a bit of an accident, and he needs to rest and get better.”

“Nah, it’s all right, ‘m fine.”

But it was apparent he was _not_ fine. He had paled, and he was leaning back against the door to steady himself on wobbly legs.

“Let’s get you to the couch. Fred, please let go of Uncle Alec.”

“Okay, Mummy. ‘M sorry, Uncle Alec.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, mate.”

Ellie led Hardy to the couch at the same moment that her sister Lucy came down the stairs beaming at the two detectives.

“DI Hardy, always a pleasure,” she said liquidly. Lucy had a bit of a ‘thing’ for Alec Hardy, and Ellie was always amused at how the timbre of her voice changed when Hardy entered the room.

Hardy nodded curtly. “Lucy.”

“I’m glad to see you up and about,” she purred. “Ellie told me what happened. And it’s in all the papers. You’re our very own local hero.”

“Ah, well…thanks, but I’m not – “

“Thanks for looking after the boys, Luce.” Ellie interrupted, casually rescuing him from the awkward conversation. “The press was camped out at Alec’s place, so I brought him here for the time being.”

“You’re going to make him sleep on the couch in his condition? You know, I’ve an extra bed at my place. He’s _more_ than welcome to stay with me.” Under her breath, she added, “Anytime.”

Hardy’s eyes grew very wide.

“No, no.” Ellie plowed onward. “I’ll probably sleep on the couch and let Alec have my bed.”

“Fine,” Lucy huffed. “Let me know if you change your mind. You too, DI Hardy.” She smiled her most seductive smile, and Ellie rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to make tea, and I’ll see you out, Luce.”

The two sisters disappeared into the hallway, leaving Hardy with Fred, who had crawled up next to him on the couch.

“Uncle Alec, Mummy said you got hurt in a accident.”

“I did, mate.”

“What kind of accident?”

“Uh, it was a work accident.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, lad, your mum and I, we sometimes have to find bad people who do very bad things. Sometimes they want to hurt people.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“They did, mate.”

“How?”

“Uh – “

Hardy paused, uncertain if he should tell Fred the truth. Just then, Ellie walked in with two steaming mugs of tea.

“Uncle Alec tried to get a gun away from a bad guy,” she said, taking the responsibility from Hardy. “But the gun went off and Alec got in the way.”

Fred’s eyes were wide.

“You got shot?”

“Aye. That I did.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Quite a lot. Still does.”

“Did you cry?”

“Um, I don’t think so.”

“Do you still have a bullet inside you?”

“No lad, it went clean through.”

If possible, Fred’s eyes grew even wider.

“So, there’s a hole in your body?

“Aye, that there is.”

“Can I see through it?”

Hardy chuckled, wincing a bit. 

“No, mate. Sorry.”

Fred looked marginally disappointed. Ellie sat on the couch next to him and put her hand on his knee.

“Uncle Alec was very brave.”

“Are you a hero, Uncle Alec?”

“No, I’m not a hero.”

“But that’s what Aunt Lucy said.”

“Aunt Lucy wasn’t there.”

“Alec – “ Ellie attempted to interject.

“Lucy doesn’t know. Nobody knows. I wish people would stop saying that!”

Hardy ran his hand through his hair and scowled at the ceiling. Ellie turned to Fred.

“Why don’t you go and play in your room, little love?”

“Okay, Mummy.” He slid off the couch and pulled on Hardy’s trouser leg. “Uncle Alec, I would’ve cried a lot if a bad guy shot me. You’re really brave.”

He scurried off, leaving Ellie and a very dour Hardy sitting side-by-side on the couch. Ellie turned to face him.

“Alec. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Hardy shook his head and said nothing. Ellie cocked her head to the side and regarded him coolly.

“You’re doing the broody thing again. I certainly didn’t miss _that_ version of Alec Hardy.”

“Well, then maybe you should’ve considered that _before_ you brought me over here.”

Ellie threw up her hands.

“Jesus, Hardy. Relax. I’m on your side. I don’t want to argue. I just want to talk.”

She leaned back on the couch and sighed, then patted his knee.

“There’s clearly something on your mind. I just wish you’d tell me what it is instead of shutting me out. I thought we were past that.”

Hardy ran his hand across his face and stared at the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need an apology, I just need you to talk to me. You get upset anytime anyone calls you a hero, or even implies that you did anything vaguely heroic.”

“Because there is nothing vaguely heroic about anything I did! I’m the one who got myself bloody shot, you said so yourself.”

“Yes, I said so in the heat of the moment, after we found ourselves dodging bullets, then we somehow ended up running two bloody miles while you were wounded and bleeding to death. I was frustrated and scared. And worried about you, you knob! I didn’t really intend to imply it was your fault!”

“I should’ve been able to – “

“What, wrestle a gun away from someone almost half your age who outweighed you by seven stone? Get real, Hardy.”

“I had training.”

“When was the last time you dealt with an actual handgun? At the academy? This isn’t bloody America.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to take it from him, then.”

“Jesus Christ, Alec! You know as well as I do that we would have been dead had we got in that car with Roman Redmond. You didn’t have a choice. The circumstances were not ideal. I would have done the same thing had our positions been switched.”

Hardy fell silent, moodily wrapping his fingers around the steaming mug of tea in front of him. Ellie shook her head in disbelief.

“I don’t know why you always feel like you have to take the blame for everything. I think you were far more comfortable when people thought you were the worst cop in Britain than you are now when those same people want to sing your praises from the rooftops.”

“Maybe,” he quietly admitted. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t able to keep us out of danger. I couldn’t keep _you_ out of danger.”

Ellie stared at him incredulously, her eyes suddenly filling with tears.

“You are such an idiot,” she said. “You took a bullet. You were _dying_. And you _did_ save me.” She was sobbing now. “Warren Redmond had that gun up to my head and was ready to pull the trigger. I was dead in a few more seconds – my boys would have no fucking mother if you hadn’t somehow managed to rise up like a goddamn phoenix and fire a perfect shot when you were half bloody dead!”

She took a deep gulp of air and angrily wiped her eyes. 

“How dare you say such awful things about the man I love,” she whispered acidly, and she got up and stalked out of the room, leaving Hardy incredulously staring after her, then burying his head in his hands.

\------------------

Later, she had prepared dinner for only the three of them, since Tom was spending the night at a friend’s house. Hardy had picked at his pasta, and had unenthusiastically munched on a bit of salad. He listened silently as Fred excitedly babbled on about his school friends and Spiderman. After dinner, they watched Wreck-It Ralph, and Hardy dozed off with Fred tucked under his arm.

When it was time for Fred to go to bed, he sleepily protested, “I want Uncle Alec to tuck me in.”

“Not tonight, Freddie. When he’s feeling better, okay?” She put a finger to her lips. “Now let’s stay quiet so we don’t wake him.”

She gently extracted Fred out from under Hardy’s arm and took him off to bed, then returned to gently jostle Hardy’s shoulder.

“Alec.”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s get you upstairs so you can sleep in a proper bed. And you need to take your medication.”

“Mmkay.”

She helped him off the couch, and shepherded him slowly, half-asleep, up the stairs to her bedroom. Once upstairs, he seemed to wake almost instantly.

“I don’t want to take your bed,” he muttered.

“Well, I don’t want you to sleep on the couch,” she countered. “What if Freddie wakes up early in the morning and excitedly jumps on you, which you know is entirely within the realm of possibility?”

“Fair point,” he conceded. 

He thought for a moment. 

“Compromise?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We could, uh…share?”

A slow smile spread across her face.

“Is that what you want?”

Hardy thought some more.

“Well…I…uh, I think…yes.”

“Very well.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’ll give you a moment to change.” She handed him the duffel bag she had packed for him a few days earlier, while he was in the hospital. 

He painfully and awkwardly managed to change into a tee and flannel bottoms, and was sitting on the side of the bed panting and grimacing when Ellie knocked.

“You decent?”

Hardy grunted an affirmative, and Ellie entered the room, clucking with concern when she saw his face.

“You knob, I would’ve helped you,’ she said, handing him two pills and a glass of water.

“You’re doing so much for me already,” he said, swallowing the pills and handing the glass back to her. “I don’t want to disrupt your life.”

She set the glass down and sat next to him on the bed, touching his cheek lightly with her fingertips.

“You are _part_ of my life. It would be a disruption if you didn’t let me help you.”

Hardy searched her eyes for answers to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“How does this work, Ellie?” he said softly. 

“How does _what_ work?”

“Um, you…me…? Us?”

Ellie smiled demurely.

“Oh, is there an ‘us’?”

Hardy squirmed a bit.

“Well, you said - you said you loved me.”

“I do. That’s not in question.”

“So…what happens if I love you too?”

Ellie thought for a moment, trying to portray a calm she was not feeling. Her heart felt like it was doing gymnastics in her chest.

“If you love me, and I love you, then maybe we give it a try.”

“But I’m rubbish at these things.”

She gave a short laugh. 

“I know,” she said, giving him her brightest smile. “But that’s part of your charm.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. Listen, Alec, when we were out there in the woods, and I thought I was losing you, all I could think of was that I needed to tell you how much you meant to me, because I might not ever have a chance again. So, I told you. I told you when I didn’t think you could hear me. But you _did_ hear me. I told you again tonight. You know how I feel about you, Alec. All my secrets are out there. But it doesn’t bother me - because I trust you. I trust you with my life, which you saved, and I trust you with my heart – and believe it or not, you saved that too.”

While he was listening to her, the frown on Hardy’s face had increasingly softened. As soon as she was finished speaking, Hardy leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, letting them linger for a moment before breaking away. Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise, but then closed as their lips met.

“I think you know this already,” he said, “but in case you don’t – I love you, Ellie Miller. I don’t know what an idiot like me did to deserve the love of a woman like you, but I’d be a fool if I mucked it up.”

“Then don’t,” she said, brushing his hair from his eyes.

“I can’t promise I won't. But I can try. I will try. For you. And for me.”

“But you have to promise me that you will work on this incessant need to blame yourself for everything. It’s such a heavy burden you’re carrying unnecessarily.”

“I will. I’ll try.”

“Good, that’s settled. Now kiss me again, then go to sleep. Your eyes are starting to glaze over.”

He smiled, and his eyes were warm, if a bit unfocused. His hand cupped her cheek as he leaned to her and brushed her lips with possibly the softest kiss she’d ever had, sending an involuntary shiver throughout her body. 

“Mmm,” he said. “A stellar ending to the day.”

“Agreed,” she said, catching her breath. “Now to bed with you.”

She helped him ease down under the covers, kissed him gently, and lay down next to him.

“Good night, Alec.”

“G’night...Um, Ellie?”

“Hmm?”

“You saved me too, you know, in every way. Maybe we were truly meant to save each other.”

“Like what your mum said about God putting you in the right place?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

He closed his eyes, and Ellie thought he had drifted off to sleep.

“Ellie?” He opened his eyes again, and fixed her with a very serious look.

“Yes, what is it?”

He cleared his throat.

“I ordered you another jacket to replace the one I bled all over. I have a newfound respect for that hideous orange monstrosity.”

Ellie snorted with laughter, and planted a kiss on Hardy’s cheek.

“You’ll never believe this,” she said, “but I already ordered you a new suit to replace the bloody one with the bullet hole, because we all know Alec Hardy can never have too many identical grey suits. Now you’re back to 18 suits, thank Christ. The balance of the universe has been restored."

They both laughed and twined their fingers together.

“I could talk to you all night,” she said, “but you need your rest. Go to sleep, love.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She kissed him once more, then lay with him quietly until she heard his breathing slow and even out, and she knew he was asleep - finally warm and safe in her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am considering a sequel to this. Considering. Thanks for the kudos and comments - they give me life!

**Author's Note:**

> I respond to all comments! Thanks for reading!


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